Briinah Do Faal Dovahkiin
by popeincuba
Summary: Tamriel's revered Dragonborn Solara is a warrior and a champion, while her twin sister Moana is a thief. They have to find a way to stop Alduin from devouring the world, but each has their own plan. Note: This is the continuation from "Dragonborns: Prologue." All characters and events belong to Bethesda Studios. The OCs, pictures, and plot changes are mine.
1. 1-1: The Turning of the Age

**_A/N: _**_Hey guys! I love seeing my viewing numbers go up, it makes my day to know thirty people read my story in the span of half a day. Anyway, I changed the title of the story **Dragonborns **to **Briinah Do Faal Dovahkiin,** which translates to **Sister of the Dragonborn. **It's not as catchy, but I think it still works._

_Just to let you guys know there will be a lot of the Thieves Guild featured in this story, so if you have not done the Thieves Guild questline for whatever reason, you may come across some spoilers. I know one chapter I have in store for later explains a lot about Moana and her personality, but the entire chapter is basically a spoiler for the Thieves Guild questline. I ended up writing a summary of that chapter, which will be published another time. I don't think it's likely for readers to come across this story without doing the Thieves Guild because it's so popular, but in case I'm wrong, I'll leave spoiler notes before any paragraph. Besides that one chapter I spoke about before, the spoilers don't effect the plot._

_I'm also dividing the story into parts, and chapters will be labelled with their part and chapter (Chapter two of part one would be labelled 1.2). This makes it easier for me to organize my work._

_I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter!_

* * *

**_PART ONE_**

**_I_**

"And a few days later, when the dragon attacked Whiterun, I fled to Riften." Karliah pours me a plentiful amount of mead, almost overflowing the tankard.

"And I'm assuming that's when you joined the guild," Karliah pours herself a tankard with what was left of the bottle. She got her tankard nearly half full.

I nodded. "That was also a few weeks after I wrote to my father," I lower my head, for the thought kills me. "Then I received word that he passed away."

Karliah puts a hand on my shoulder, "We all have to lose something before we can receive better."

"But he was the reason I joined the Guild," I couldn't help but to put my hands into fists, almost tearing apart my Nightingale gloves. "I was going to make the money and mail it all to him every month." Knowing I failed that task made me want to bash a skeever's head into the cobblestone floor.

**_(A/N: minor spoiler next paragraph)_  
**

"Things don't always work out the way we expect them to, unfortunately," Karliah took a gulp from her tankard. "That we both know, Karliah," I gulp down half of my tankard of mead. Living in hiding for years after being framed for the death of an old Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild, I believe she understands those words the most.

"I need rest, Karliah." I poured what was left of my mead into her tankard and proceeded to the spare bedroom down the hallway that separated the main hall with Karliah's living and sleeping area from the shrines and old bedrooms.

"Moana," Karliah's voice stops me. I turn towards her, "Yes, Karliah?"

"I know it hurts. I can understand that much," she rises from her chair, and inches towards me. "We still got a job to do. For Nocturnal, for the Guild."

I smiled lightly. "The Guild is the only family I need."

We wished each other goodnight. Karliah went to pray while I took off my Nightingale armor and got into a simple dress that was comfortable enough to sleep in.

I do have a house in the Falkreath hold, but I recently heard news of the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary outside of Falkreath being ambushed. Apparently everybody inside the sanctuary at the time was wiped out. For security purposes, I decided it would be best to temporarily go into hiding with Karliah. This wasn't good, mainly because the Guild has important business with the Brotherhood. Not only that, but Astrid was going to give me her Stone of Barenziah as a payment for what we were doing for the organization. Knowing that those stones are hard to come across, and that we only need three more to complete the set, it's a nightmare to believe that it was possibly destroyed.

But as of now, I'm living in Nightingale Hall with Karliah in exchange for helping her with some work for Lady Nocturnal, the Deadric Prince of Darkness and Shadows. Tomorrow we're to eliminate a woman who stumbled upon Karliah entering Nightingale Hall, and threatened to reveal the location to the Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm.


	2. 1-2: Serana's Heyv

**_II_**

"Are both of you going?" Alesan whined to Serana and I.

We couldn't give the boy a straight answer. Serana was insisting on joining me to find my sister, but this was something I want to handle on a personal level.

Just to make this clear, Serana and I are not married. We just take care of each other, even though she has temporary contempt towards me. She used to be a vampire, until I convinced her to cure her vampirism for the Dawnguard's sake. However, she was furious when I told her I refused to give up my beast blood given to me by the Circle.

I could have taken anyone else as my wife, such as Mjoll in Riften, or Aela from the Companions; Serana was different. When I talk to her, I feel like I'm talking to the only person in Nirn who would have my back, even if I didn't deserve it. I felt like I actually had someone to fight for. I'd die for her if necessary.

At the moment, we both have civil feeling towards each other, and we both care for our sons as best as we can.

"We need someone to stay with the boys," I argued.

"They're nearly twelve, Solara. They'll be fine," Serana packs a magicka potion in her pack, "Plus we've got Calder here to protect them."

"Calder is a housecarl," I take the magicka potion out of her pack, "not a babysitter."

"They aren't babies, they're becoming young men," Serana places the magicka potions back into her pack. "You just can't accept that."

"Why would I agree to caring for children if I'm to have the ignorance to believe that they'd never age?"

Serana stops filling her pack, and sighs. I walk towards her, leaving only a few inches of space between out foreheads.

"I have to do this, Serana. It's my destiny as Dragonborn."

Being quite a few inches shorter than myself, Serana looks up to me. "I know you can defeat Alduin, but I don't know about your sister."

Confused, I ask, "What do you mean?"

"What if she refuses to help you? What if she tries to kill you? What if she doesn't recognize you or believe that you're her sister and just thinks you're psychotic? What if sh-" I shove an apple to her mouth so she could stop talking. I would have kissed her, but I didn't want that to lead into anything right before I leave for a few days.

"From the information I've gathered, I know she's the leader of the Thieves Guild. She's probably dealt with crazier people than me, and if she doesn't want to help me..." I trail off.

Why would a thief decide to help a warrior kill a dragon? She probably has a golden tongue and would be able to convince me to help her steal from one of the Jarl's palaces if she really wanted. But me, I was only successfully charismatic to people that liked me. Those are the people who respect the Companions, Stormcloaks, or just warriors alone. As far as I knew, my sister doesn't fall under any of those categories.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she refuses to help me," I mumble.

"Does she even know about you?"

I shrug, "She's going to find out."

"What makes you think for sure that she's a Dragonborn as well? You two don't have the same souls. If anything, you two sound like complete opposites." Serana has a point.

"In the case that she does have a Dragon's soul, she should get as much a chance to stop Alduin as I'm getting."

Serana lowers her head, "I hope you aren't using that as an excuse for me to stay here. I trust you will be successful, even if she isn't by your side."

Damn Serana. She knows how to make me feel guilty, especially when I exclude her from anything. I decide to give in. "If she isn't there, then you're coming with me."

Serana's face brightens up, "Solara... it's not my duty."

"It isn't until it's requested of you," I smile and take her hands. "If for whatever reason my sister cannot make an attempt fulfill this destiny, then you may come in her place to help me fulfill mine."

Serana smiles, and wraps herself around me. Then she lets go and murmurs, "I believe in you."

"So is Ma or Mama staying home?" Blaise asks us. We stare at him, not realizing he was in the room while we were talking about my sister.

"Mama will be with you guys while I'm gone," I answer.

From downstairs, I hear Alesan cheering. "Oh, so you're excited for me to leave?" I holler across the house.

"No Ma," he calls back to me, "I'm excited because Mama will be home, and you'll have more stories to tell us when you get back!"

I laugh, and walk down the stairs and smile at him. "That I will, son." I take my leave from Windhelm after supper, and begin the journey to find my sister.


	3. 1-3: The Spy's Nir

**_III_**

"She's supposedly set up a camp at the abandoned Goldenglow Estate," Karliah mentions as she slips on her Nightingale hood.

"That's property of the Thieves Guild," I remind her. "I know that place very well." I recalled the three beehives I burnt there when I had to show Aringoth what happens to those who betray any client of the Thieves Guild.

"Then we should be fine," she mutters. Karliah and I were each others' reflections. We both wore our Nightingale gear. We both used bows as our weapons, with the only difference being her bow is a Nightingale bow (that she insisted on giving to me, but I rejected) and mine is ebony. We were even both using Elven arrows that were covered with charcoal to blend in with out gear.

It was close to two in the morning; we came out this late so we could get a head start and catch up to the target. "What's the target's name?" I ask.

"I'm not sure," Karliah whispers. "Based on her voice and tone from when I encountered her, it seems that she was hired to find us."

"Did she see you in your armor?" I ask Karliah in a soft tone.

"Yes," she responds in the same tone. "I had my cowl on too, so our identities are safe." I nod at her of approval. Karliah wasn't always one to make a mistake, but when she was, she'd make it clean.

"There it is," I say as we approach the bridge connecting the island Goldenglow rested on with the main land. "There's a sewer we can go in through, or we can slip through the main gate and find her from there."

"We don't need to be stepping in other people's waste," Karliah pulls her bow from her back, "The gate's right there."

"I'm ready when you are," I breath. So then, we moved in towards the estate.

Sneaking through the shadows made by the walls that surrounded the property was simple. We had our armor that made us as dark as Nocturnal herself, so it was impossible for anyone to spot us. "There she is," Karliah breathes as she points towards the woman. She was a Nord with brown hair, wearing white, stained rags as clothing. "She doesn't look like a spy; she does her job right." Karliah gave me a nod of agreement, "That's what I thought too."

I pul an arrow from the quiver on my back, and drew my bow, as silently as possible. Then, the Nord turns her head directly towards us. Before she could do anything, the arrow was already flying towards her. She gave out a yelp of death when the arrow struck her between the eyes.

"Nice shot," Karliah praises me almost with jealousy of my archery skills, "I'll search her."

Karliah runs to the corpse, and begins to search the woman's body. "A sapphire... A steel dagger... a silver ring..." I roll my eyes, "Anything that'll tell us who hired her?"

Karliah puts her hand down the side of her ragged boot, "there's paper... a note." The paper was crumpled into a ball. Karliah opens it, and reads it aloud.

"'Follow the target, and discover where her current residency is. If you have any information, you know where to find me. There will be bags of gold waiting for you. If you're spotted, tell them you're going to report them to the Jarl of Windhelm. I want the human with pale skin and dark hair; she is more than likely to be an archer. Kill anyone that stands between you and her. I need her alive. I trust you know enough about sneaking to do this right.'"

"Someone paid to have my location revealed..." I murmur.

"There's no signature. We need to find out who could decipher this," Karliah says in a determined attitude.

"We could head to Windhelm, and bribe some guards for information," I suggest. Karliah agreed, "Let's get moving. It's best we find better outfits, though."

I'm already ahead of her. I stick my hand in my pack, and my fingertips feel the soft texture of the fur armor I was going to wear to meet the Jarl.


	4. 1-4: The Kendov's Quest

**_A/N:_**_Hello readers! If you've actually decided to read up to this chapter, I must thank you. It's getting tiresome to see people only read the first chapter, then abandon this page. I think the plot will eventually become more interesting, and I hope you guys will agree! This chapter is basically just Solara thinking about her mission, and it's going to show her background knowledge (and lack of knowledge) on various subjects, such as different factions throughout Skyrim, and her family history. So there won't be much action, but more personal notes for Solara. Hope that isn't too terrible. Enjoy!_

* * *

**_IV_**

I'm fully aware that the Thieves Guild makes their home within the Ratway in Riften. The only reason I know this is because the con artist Brynjolf was foolish enough to offer me a position into their organization. After being told to kill every living specimen in those tunnels beneath Riften (and succeeding), I found the whole "steal without killing" idea ridiculous. I felt similarly to assassins: why kill someone in such an unnoticeable fashion I get you may not want them to draw attention by making a lot of noise, but why not convince them to take a walk out into the wilderness and kill them there, where nobody will hear their screams of terror? I tend to wonder the philosophy of people with such strange occupations when I go on these quests.

Then I begin to wonder as to what my sister's like. All I know about her was that she was living in the Imperial City her whole life, and she's become the Guild Master of the Thieves Guild in Skyrim within a few months (I knew of her position for over a year now). It's almost like becoming the leader of these organizations are simple handouts. If a person who's never stepped foot into Skyrim since the time she was born is able to lead a faction, I'm sure a skeever could too.

Now that I think of it, I don't even know her name. Mother never mentioned it because when her and my father split up, they both agreed to name each girl completely on their own. Thus, she didn't know her other daughter's name. What if she knows my name? My name is being thrown all throughout Skyrim (maybe even Tamriel) as "Solara, the hero to save us from the world's end!" Not the title I was going for, but it's still accurate.

I haven't gotten started on stopping Alduin, other than killing any dragons that would attack me or a city. I wouldn't take the desire into doing this all by myself if there's a possibility of her being Dragonborn as well. That would be like a child taking all the sweet rolls for herself because her sister hasn't woken up from her nap yet.

Would a thief truly help a warrior that claimed to be her sister, and was convinced they were both Dragonborn?

That question would not escape my mind. As I set up my tent for the night, the idea races through my head. As I made a fire to cook the salmon I bought from the Argonians before I got on the road, I couldn't help but to evaluate the idea.

_"If you were a thief would you help a warrior on her mission?"_

I ponder the idea for maybe an hour, until I think I finally got an answer.

_"Only if there's gold involved."_

Lucky for me, I obtained quite some gold from selling armor and weapons I would find in dungeons and bandit camps during my adventures. I also have an enchanter's table at home; whenever I'd find a piece of armor that wasn't enchanted, I'd enchant it (quite nicely) so it'd be worth triple the coin. Some of my gold comes from Serana selling magical goods to those who'd encounter her.

I packed my camp and continued walking hours ago. I can see the sun beginning to rise for the break of dawn.

A few hours later, I'm halfway from Windhelm to Riften. I hear the footsteps of a jogger, growing louder as they approach me. I turn, ready to draw my warhammer for whatever I need to defend myself from. That is until I realize it was just a courier.

"There you are," the Breton courier stops, and he takes in a huge breath. "I've been looking all over for you."

"Sorry about that," I tell him. "I left Windhelm only yesterday morning. What do you have for me?"

"No letters from any friends, except a letter of inheritance." My heart drops, and thoughts crowd my head. Without hearing the courier's depart, he ran away to deliver his next set of letters.

I heave in a breath, and open the letter.

"Solara,"

"In the name of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, it is with great regret that we inform you of Silda the Unseen's death. Guards witnessed her murder at Goldenglow Estate. Once they discovered her body at the scene, the murderer was gone. The only evidence they found was an Elven arrow in her body. One guard also mentioned seeing two figured in dark hoods running towards the woods."

I didn't want to even read the rest of the letter. If this was from any other Jarl, I wouldn't have gotten as much details. Luckily, this was Ulfric. I knew that if something happened to one of my associates, he would give me the details.

Many groups came into my head whom whore dark hoods. First was the Dark Brotherhood, but they where exterminated. Next were the Alik'r, but they were famous for their skilled combat with curved swords, or as the average intellectual person would say, the scimitar. I thought of the Thieves Guild, but then I recalled their strict "no killing" policy. I know the Thalmor use Elven equipment and wear dark hoods, but their archers are equipped with Elven armor. Anyone else with hoods would be mages, but no mage would use a bow an arrow.

_What possible group of archers would wear dark hoods?_ Now that I think of it, were there any groups famous for archery? No, so they have to be either part of a small group that I haven't heard of (which is highly unlikely), or they are just two individuals who take pleasure in coordinating their outfits together.

The only group that could put two and two together is the fictitious Nightingales, and tales tell how they exist within the Thieves Guild. That might be something else I investigate when I pay them a visit.


	5. 1-5: Bribing the Jun

**_A/N:_ **_Wow, after I posted that fourth chapter, my viewing numbers doubled. Thanks guys! Instead of studying for my driver's permit test for tomorrow, I edited this chapter. I hope you six people that actually read every chapter enjoy this!_

**_V_**

Karliah and I exit the riverside shack after changing into common fur armor, and replacing our ornately enchanted bows and arrows with standard hunting bows and iron arrows. Whenever we visit a city, we usually claim to be hunters (we even carry fresh meat around to sell, just in case someone tries to buy from us).

"We should find out who the spy was before we speak to Ulfric Stormcloak," Karliah suggests. "But how?"

'How' is a good question. "There is a drinking hall at the entrance of the city, we could ask if they heard any rumors about the death of a citizen."

"I read your face and witnessed you suggest a false-hoped idea," Karliah shakes her head. If mortals had the ability to read the minds of others like the gods do, then Karliah was the master of it.

"Isn't it worth a try?" I play her little game. I know she's determined to find out who hired this spy. She wouldn't turn down the only suggestion on the table, unless she had a better one.

"Alright, fine," she muttered. I gave her a grin, and she gave me the look a mother gives to her pestering child.

Before stepping through the gates of Windhelm, I could sense discord in the stone of the walls that surrounded the city. We enter the city to find everyone gossiping as much as the innkeeper in Falkreath. There was almost nobody standing alone, and everybody was talking to somebody other than Karliah and myself. The guards were even talking amongst themselves. Do these people know who we are? Do they know our business?

No. Some of the citizens are beggars and children; they would have nothing to do with this. At least, not that I suspect.

Suddenly I hear a man with a warhammer on his back talk about "Silda's sudden disappearance."

"She isn't alive, you know," the beggar with a limp corrects him. "The Jarl announced her death this morning. I heard she wandered all the way to the Rift."

Karliah and I immediately faced each other. Her face was so pale, she didn't appear as a Dumner. "Best we speak to Jarl Stormcloak now," Karliah rushes me, "I know this city is infamous for it's oppressive treatment towards my race."

I recall my first visit to this city, witnessing two Nords accusing a Dumner of being an Imperial spy, followed by threats of forcing them to leave the city. I nod, and Karliah and I make a swift jog to the Palace of the Kings. We walked so fast the guards couldn't stop to question us before going into the palace.

Immediately, our presence causes disruption. Jorleif, the steward, hisses at us, "What is your business here?"

"We're traveling hunters," Karliah acknowledges, "we just have a few questions for the jarl about the land in this hold."

"There are plenty of deer and foxes; not much rabbit," Jorleif dictates her, "now you be on your way, dark elf." He turns to face me, "you too, Imperial."

"She is not an Imperial," Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak approaches his steward from the room to the left of the hall. "I will answer whatever questions they ask me." His first sentence froze my blood. Growing up, nobody has ever met me without mistaking me for a native to Cyrodiil, or an Imperial. It seems Ulfric Stormcloak is the only one, besides my own father, to recognize me as the Nord is truly am.

"Yes sir," Jorleif leaves into the doorway opposite to the one Ulfric came from.

"You have our thanks, Jarl," Karliah tells him in a soft tone.

"Please speak quickly," he insists, "I'm a busy man."

"Silda, the beggar that recently died," before I can ask my question, Ulfric interrupts, "I know why you're here." Karliah and I both pause, unknowing if we should admit our true business, or play dumb.

"I know you're going to ask me what caused her death, or what kind of person Silda associates herself with," Ulfric Stormcloak paces towards his throne, and takes a seat. "I don't have the authority to answer those kinds of questions."

"You're the Jarl. You have highest weight of authority of this city, and soon the nation, do you not?" I remark. He sighs, "What I choose to say or not say about certain matters is my business."

"And what if your people, the sons and daughters of Skyrim, knew that their High King-to-be was keeping secrets from them?" Karliah turns to me in shock, that I'd say such a threat to a future monarch (being she granddaughter of Queen Barenziah herself, she's the only person allowed to be shocked in this situation).

"What makes you think they're going to believe you?" Jarl gives us the look he'd give to a court fool.

"Everybody in this city is talking about her," Karliah explains in a softer tone, "if you don't tell somebody how she died, there will be suspicion."

"They know she died while wandering into the Rift," Ulfric explains with discontent. "Now leave here before I call the guards," just with that magic "g" word, weapons were drawn.

"For what reason did she wander into the Rift?" I bark at him, "We want to know what caused her death, not where she was."

Jarl Ulfric spoke, "then you leave me no choice, Guildmaster." I felt my face burn like flames. Karliah looks toward me, and I read fear in her eyes.

"How are you aware of my title?" I mutter only loud enough for him to hear me.

"There is only one Nord I know that exists to have the appearance of an Imperial," he laughs, "and I know for a fact she's the leader of the Thieves Guild, like the rumors say."

"Rumors said by who?" I demand.

"A relative of yours," Ulfric raises his eyebrows, "which they heard from the townspeople."

"You don't need to speak like she's not here," Karliah shouts. "Why did you hire that beggar to find her?"

"I'm not the one who hired her," he remarks.

"Then who?" I put a hand on my feeble hunting bow (enchanted to absorb health), hearing the footsteps of the guards approach me.

"No need to try and pull off an intimidation with me," Ulfric smiles, "just a deal."

Knowing I could pull off any bribe, I raise a brow, "What sort of deal?"


	6. 1-6: Her Cruel Kiirmaar

_**A/N:**_ **  
**

**_VI_**

Whenever the sun would set, the sky would always project a warm, golden shine to our surroundings. This time in the day is what my mother called the Golden Hour. The Rift had this look any time of day, due to the umber color of the trees. The Rift during the Golden Hour, however, is the most prepossessing sight any traveler could see.

I walk upon the gate to Riften where the guards stood, stealing money from first-time travelers and calling it the "tax for entering the city." Please, you'd think the guards themselves were members of the Thieves Guild. My first visit to Riften was when I would walk around in customary steel armor, and they still gave me trouble. Now, whenever I'd show up in my Ebony Mail, the guards wouldn't hesitate to open the gates for me.

Now I wonder: should I try to track down Brynjolf in town, or should I wait for him in the Ratway?

It's probably safer to search for him before I go to the Ragged Flagon. Since shops were closing soon, I decided it'd be best to wait in the Bee and Barb. If he doesn't show up by midnight, then I'll make my way into the Ratway, where hopefully the corpses of those lowlifes I slaughtered were cleaned up.

The two Argonians that own the Bee and Barb usually don't acknowledge my entry because I only go into their inn when I'm looking for someone. This was the same occasion.

"Good day, ma'am," Talen-Jei, one of the owners of the inn, greets me. "Which one of my guests are you looking for now?"

I give him a smile, "Is Brynjolf staying here by any chance?"

Tanel-Jei widens his yellow eyes, "We actually haven't seen or heard from him in over a year." Keerava, the bartender, joins in the conversation, "Yeah, things have been much more peaceful around here without him around!"

"Oh," I try to hide my surprise that he's probably dull enough to stay in hiding with the Guild for a long period of time. "Well, I'm glad to hear."

"Would you like a drink," Keerava offers as she cleans a tankard, "We just got a delivery of spiced wine from Solitude. It's on the house."

"No thanks," I make my way out the door. "Maybe some other time when I'm not busy," but of course, I was always busy. "Don't want to be wasted on the job now."

Right as I exit the Bee and Barb, something hits against my thigh and falls onto the ground, causing a _thud_. "Sorry ma'am," says a young and familiar voice, "I've got to make my way back to- wait, it's you!" I know exactly who this was just from the gasp of excitement.

"Aventus?" I ask in udder shock, "You finally came back to Riften to live in the orphanage?" The only orphanage in Skyrim was in Riften, which is probably the worst place on Nirn to open an orpanage because to all the crime. Here was Aventus Arentino, the boy who I stumbled upon in his abandoned home in Windhelm when I investigated a rumor about him performing rituals to summon the Dark Brotherhood. Devious little child, he is.

"Yup!" He grins, "Now that Grelod is dead, I think I could settle for Constance Michel running the place." I didn't blame him on that one, only because I knew the kind of cruelty Grelod put towards the children that were forced to live there. I knew, because I used to be one of them, and seeing a child roam the streets of Riften was a shock to me because Grelod would never let the kids leave their shared room in that orphanage. I never saw the trees of Riften from the time I was three until my sixteenth birthday.

"I'm glad you're in good hands for now," I help him off the ground, almost pulling him into the air by just one arm. Before breaking him, I let him go. "It's getting late. Get home before they notice you're gone," without a word, Aventus ran off.

Suddenly, all of the flashbacks returned to me. How Grelod would beat us whenever one of us would ask for another spoonful of stew. How she would read books to us about how children were only a waste of time and space in peoples' lives. How she would scream at us whenever we asked even to relieve ourselves during "story time." How she would lock us up in the closet with dead skeevers and troll heads, causing some kids to have major panic attacks. Then one day, I discovered Aventus's situation, and what he wanted.

He wanted a Dark Brotherhood assassin to kill Grelod the Kind. I didn't blame him, and I felt sorry for the kid. Thus, I fulfilled the boy's wishes (and partially mine).

The fear she had on her face from the moment I stepped into that orphanage was the greatest feeling revenge could ever get me. The way she bit her bottom lip, the way her hands were shaking, they gave my pounding heart a desirable thrill. When Constance Michel and the children found her body in her bedroom, the kids didn't scream of terror, but of joy. I remembered some of those kids first entering the orphanage shortly before my sixteenth birthday. The day Grelod died was the first day I ever saw some of those kids with a smile on their face. I avenged them and the abuse we had to go through.

I made my way to the boardwalks of Riften, which smelt of fish and waste. I open the caged gate to the Ratway door, then the wooden door that opens the Ratway. Closing the doors behind me, I could already smell the rotten corpses of the lowlifes I killed over a year ago.


	7. 1-7: Volaan of the Thieves

**_A/N: _**_Hey guys! Sorry I didn't update for the past few days. I was out of town for a convention up in Tampa. It was a lot of fun! I'll also be rooting for Germany for today's game (sorry Argentina). Also, sorry if this story sucks. I actually have an ending for it already, but I'm stuck on what to write for the chapters I'm on right now. Hopefully I'll think of something to throw in there. I hope you guys like this chapter!_

**_VII_**

"I still don't think that was a good deal, Moana," Karliah reminds me in a very annoyed tone.

"I don't think so, either," I sigh, "but we got our information." We learned that the person who hired Silda the Unseen to spy on us was none other than the Dragonborn herself.

"Goody-two-boot dragon slayers..." Karliah mumbles. "She calls herself a warrior, I call her a milk drinker."

"Indeed, you're right," I chuckle as we approach Windhelm Stables. "Want to take the carriage?"

"Sure," she nods, "best we get back to the Guild and tell them the news." The news we had to tell was that we could no longer do service to the city of Windhelm. I think we could still get away with doing business with the people of the city, but we had to be more discreet about our work. The only problem was, we had all our rookies assigned to sell merchandise to clients in the cities. Rookies aren't the most sneaky individuals, hence why they're assigned those duties.

"It's better than his original offer," I reckon. "One city or the entire nation."

Karliah nods, "You're right, but that doesn't make it a good deal."

I shrug my shoulders, and the man who was sitting on the carriage looks at me when I hand him a small coin purse. "Where do you want to go?"

"Riften, the both of us." I stare him dead in the eye so he wouldn't try to raise the price. "Climb on back and we'll be off," he smiles.

Lucky for me, I was wearing my amulet of articulation. It was a token for my services to the Guild, and it improves my ability to manipulate others into doing my bidding. There's never been anyone who could resist it's abilities.

Within a couple of hours, Karliah and I make it to Riften. We walk through the cemetery behind the Temple of Mara, and we see a priestess of Talos worshipping his shrine. "There's been more people around here since they allowed the worship of Talos again," Karliah mentions.

"Aye," I nod, "Brynjolf told me they put the secret entrance back here because all that was here way that unused shrine." Karliah rolls her eyes.

We stand by one of the tombstones beside the secret entrance, pretending to mourn over somebody. We even throw a couple of lavenders and tundra cottons down for a nice effect. Finally, at around midnight, the priestess leaves.

"How some people could talk to a person in the sky for such a long time," I mock, until I realize Karliah took offense, for she was that way towards Nocturnal.

"Watch your tongue before I cut it off," she snaps at me as she presses the rhombus button on the phony coffin. The tiles on the floor open up to reveal the entrance to the cistern.

We walk to the steps near the entrance. I start climbing down the wooden latter into the cistern, while Karliah pulls the chain beside the trapdoor to close the secret entrance. Right when my feet touch the ground, a familiar voice suffocates me.

"Good to see you again, las." The voice was Brynjolf, and we was wearing his Guildmaster armor (even though he wasn't the Guildmaster, he had a set of his own for whenever I wasn't around). He turns to Karliah, "Ah Karliah, long time no see, good friend."

"Hello, Brynjolf. Moana and I have some," she pauses just so she could glare at me, "bad news."

I guess that's my cue to explain. "We're no longer allowed to do business within the city of Windhelm," I glare back at Karliah, "That is, unless we don't get caught."

Byrnjolf laughs, "Then we shall send only our top ranks there." Karliah scoffs at Brynjolf, and continues to glare at me. After Brynjolf stops laughing, he clears his throat, and appears to have discontent in his eyes. "Is something wrong?" I ask him, knowing he has some serious business on his mind.

"Nothing necessarily wrong," he answers in an almost sarcastic tone, "but you have a visitor waiting for you with Vex, Delvin, and Dirge."

Karliah raises an eyebrow, "A visitor?" Brynjolf nods. "A woman who stormed into the Flagon, demanding to see the Guildmaster."

"Well then," I say as if I were trying to get off the discussion. I set my pack onto the bedside table near my bed, "Let's have a word with her."


	8. 1-8: When Briinah Meet

**_A/N: _**_Wow, this is a short chapter. I'm sorry ;-; I tried to lengthen it as best I could. Hope you guys enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!_

* * *

**_VIII_**

Thankfully, the people at the Ragged Flagon are wise enough to not attempt the unreasonable task of tying me down to a chair. Instead, they temporarily blindfolded me, sat me down at a table, and had the bouncer and two members of the guild stand beside me (I'm probably mistaken, but I think their names are Bex and Delvon). They're both holding daggers to my neck so that I would be unable to leave or kill them. I could've bet all the gold I'm worth that they were stealing from my pockets as I sat there as their hostage.

Suddenly, I heard doors creaking, and footsteps approaching me. "You can remove her blindfold, Dirge," says Brynjolf, who was apparently leading the Thieves Guild while the Guildmaster was gone. My blindfold was removed, and my eyes weren't able to make out the figures that stood before me. I blinked a couple dozen times, until I saw her.

The first detail I notice is her attire. She wears the same uniform as Brynjolf and the other two members holding daggers to my neck, which was the same as any common thief's outfit, except it was black instead of brown. Her hood covers part of her face, so I can't yet make out her facial features. She has an ebony bow on her back, and Deadric arrows in a black quiver.

Having some experience as a hostage, I've learnt that the captor never should have a weapon other than a dagger to intimidate their captive. The fact she has a bow and a quiver of arrows with her was almost improper. Then again, so is leaving the captive with their weapons and armor, but I shouldn't complain about that.

I then analyze her face and body features. Her hair's as black as my armor, from what I could see of the strands in front of her face. She has black lips, which appears to be the same color as her face paint. The face paint came from her eyes, down her cheeks, and it stopped under her chin. She stood my height of five feet and six inches, but her figure was far leaner than mine, even without my armor.

The only factor that took away emphasis from this 'all black' look of hers were the eyes: they were as blue as the cruelest seas in Tamriel. Just like my mother's. Just like my own.

Finally, she was here. She was finally in my presence. Now... I don't know what to say to her first. "Would you like to have a seat?" I suggest to her, since there was another chair across the small circular table where I sat.

She shook her head, "No thank you, I'd prefer to stand." She looks up at her friends, "Vex, Delvin, you don't have to hold daggers to her neck like that. How would she be willing to speak?" Well, I got those names wrong.

Without a word, both daggers are moved away from my neck. "Now," she begins the conversation, "state your business."

"If you know who I am, you'll hopefully know my business," I say to her. She smiles, "Of course I know who you are."

I widen my eyes. "You're the Dragonborn, and you hired that beggar in Windhelm to spy on me." Not what I was going for, but close enough.

"That is true, I admit," I have no reason to lie, "but do you know who you are?"

"What kind of question is that?" She scoffs, "who and what I am is not your business, only my own." Well, that was a naked answer.

"If you truly know who you are, you'll see yourself as more than the leader of the infamous Thieves Guild in Skyrim," my breathing becomes heavier, "you'll know you're like me." I pause, wondering if she even realizes we share the same parents. "Tell me your name."

"You want me to tell you?" She blinks, and I stare at her in confirmation. "I agree that it's absurd," she turns to look at Brynjolf, then back to me, "to be unknowing of the person that shared your mother's womb with you."


	9. 1-9: Thief's Words of Vahzen

**_A/N: _**_So I realize this chapter is extremely short. Well this is the end of part one, and I thought I'd publish it early to make up for the shortness of these chapters. Hope you guys enjoy!_

* * *

**_IX_**

The air is still. Everyone of my fellow Guildmembers face me, with horrified faces. The only person who wouldn't be surprised is Karliah, because she's the only one who knows. But she wasn't in the room, so everyone was in disbelief. Even myself.

"You," the Dragonborn pauses, "you know?"

"That the woman who I never met, that is supposed to have identical blood to me, is the revered Dragonborn?" I stop myself from yelling at her, because my emotions towards her aren't necessarily her fault. I let out a tranquil sigh, "I knew since I saw you absorb that dragon's energy at Whiterun."

"You saw that?" She sounds as if she took pity for me. "I did," I assure her. There was a long pause. Nobody in the room was breathing because they all found out that their boss's sister is the Dragonborn. Her voice, which was so closely identical to my own, broke the silence.

"Do you want to know the reason why I'm here, then?" She stands up, and Dirge grabs her arm (or at least he tries to, being that her heavy armor makes it impossible to get a grip). "Let her, Dirge," I tell him. He presents a look of hatred to his victim, and releases his poor grip of her.

"Let me take a wild guess," I turn to her, "to ask me how I was able to kill your poorly defended spy?" She scoffs at me, "No."

"Then tell me," I snap at her, "because I see no reason for you to be here when you have cities filled with people who would be willing to build shrines in your name if you asked them to."

I thought she was about to jump me, which would probably cause my death due to the weight she probably had on her. That was until I realize everybody in the tavern has their weapon as hand. Instead, she stares at me like I'm dumb, "You might have the same power I do. We may not share souls, but we share blood." My blood hasn't run this cold since I found out my father died.

"This isn't news to me," I sigh, and decide to let go of all the tension that's been building up inside me. "I know that I am Dragonborn."


	10. 2-1: Their Krolurend

_**A/N:** __And so they meet! There's going to be some more details about Moana's and Solara's relationships with their families in the next few chapters. Hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for reading and feel free to review and favorite!_

_**PART TWO**_

_**I**_

I had strong doubts that she would have any interest in me or what I had to say to her. I was right; she didn't. At least in the back of my head I was celebrating, because what I truly hoped for was just confirmed true to me. She is Dragonborn.

"Why haven't you tried to sought me out?" I ask her. I'm sorry, but if I just discovered my twin sister and I were the Dragonborns, I'd try to find her and get information about us. Hell, maybe even catch up over a bottle of mead. I guess she didn't feel the same way.

"I figured you were strong enough and had enough allies," she paces around the table so that she was now standing by the counter. "You shouldn't need a thief beside you on your journey."

"Your occupation makes no difference to the value you're worth to me," I inform her in the kindest way I could. "We're both Dragonborn. We both share this destiny to kill Alduin. If we're going to fulfill it, shouldn't we do it together?" At this point, I was speaking as if nobody else was in the tavern to listen to us.

She shuts her eyes and sighs, "There is only one final blow in a kill, we can't both have it."

"That's nonsense," I try to assure her, "Even if one of us doesn't get the final blow, we'd still be able to say we killed Alduin if we both put as much damage towards him as we can."

She rolls her eyes, "What makes you think I can assist you? Because you're a warrior? I'm not just going to pick up warrior skills by being in your presence. Me being a thief doesn't make me able to trust that you can pickpocket from the Emperor. I'm not going to hire a mage to assist me on a heist job, and you shouldn't have a thief help you fight a dragon."

She doesn't get it. "This isn't about doing our jobs," I remind her. "It's about us both putting in an effort to stop Alduin."

"More than half of Skyrim is in fear of my organization, while the rest of the Nords want me dead," she snaps at me. "They'll think you're a skooma addict if they learn that you're trying to gain my companionship."

"That isn't true," I assure her. "As I said before, I don't even know your name. I only remember your face from when I saw you at Helgen. And I know for sure that I'm not afraid of you, nor do I want you dead," I stare her dead in the eye, feeling like a desperate negotiator, "I need you."

She turns to Brynjolf, who stares back at her. Then after a moment, she turns to me with raised eyebrows, "What's in it for me?"

A rush of relief goes through my veins, "What do you want in return?"

"Well, I don't want respect. I don't need any recruits for the Guild, and we're finally set up in regards of wealth," she pauses, smiles at Brynjolf, and I could tell she wanted something that I wouldn't enjoy giving up. "Convince Ulfric Stormcloak to allow us back into the city of Windhelm, and we'll be in business."

"You mean, you guys were allowed in the city at some point?" I never knew that theft was legal.

"No, you fool!" She looked as if she were to shout at me. "We have associates in major cities. Ulfric wants us to stop doing business with these associates in Windhelm, in return for giving us information about who hired that spy to kill us."

Wow. Ulfric really took a bribe, which was something I don't think I'd ever bet on the man doing. She must have used some kind of power or ability to manipulate him into confessing. "So that's how you knew," I tell her in disgust.

"You still want my help?" She asks me in an annoyed tone. Being as fed up as I am, I give in.

"Indeed. I'll speak to him."


	11. 2-2: Shameful Soven

**_A/N: _**_Hey guys! I received my first negative review! Such a milestone for me, right? Each is to their own opinion, I guess._

_On a lighter note, I'm probably going to write another Elder Scrolls fanfiction! It'll either be about this couple I discovered in Solstheim, or about Eydis (The Innkeeper of Old Hroldan) and her husband. Let me know what you guys think!_

**_Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!_**

**_II_**

The Dragonborn agreed to convincing her revered Ulfric Stormcloak into allowing the Thieves Guild to do business in Windhelm once again. After she left, Brynjolf approaches me, more than likely to speak his light words of encouragement.

"Way to go, lass," he smiles, "That amulet I gave you sure comes in handy, doesn't it?"

I laugh, as I brush the Amulet of Articulation with my fingertips. "I guess you could say it's my secret weapon." Brynjolf laughs again. Karliah appears from the phony cabinet door, used to hide our entrance into the Cistern.

"That was quite the ruckus," Karliah lets out concerned huff, "but it went better than I expected. Can you say the same?"

"Fortunately I can," I exhale. "I expected her reason to find me would be to kill me and eliminate the Thieves Guild, just like the way those bastards eliminated the Dark Brotherhood, which reminds me."

"Brynjolf, Karliah," I turn to them, who immediately turn back to me, "I need your guys' assistance. There will be a meeting tonight in the Cistern at sunrise. Since there are currently no jobs in progress that are outside of the hold, the meeting is mandatory. Anyone who is late will receive no pay for two weeks, and those who do not attend at all will receive no pay for a month."

Brynjolf nods, "Yes, lass." I look at Karliah, and I could tell she's pissed by the fact that I was telling her what to do. However, she complies, "As you wish. I'll round up those who are outside of the city." I thank them both.

* * *

I make my way to the Cistern after having a meal, until Brynjolf calls me into the room behind the false-backed cabinet. I enter the room, which had the typical set up of a double bedroom. Two beds on opposing walls, each with a bedside table, and a wardrobe and chest of the other side of the room. Brynjolf was sitting at the table in the center of the room. "Pull up a chair, lass."

I take his offer, and sit at the opposite side of the small rounded table so I can face him. "What's on your mind?" I question him.

"I've been thinking lass, now that we're getting more recognition, I think it's best we become more down-low with our recruitment," he sounds as if he were straining his voice.

"Well that was a topic I was going to address at the meeting tomorrow morning," I tell him, but he still seems dissatisfied. "What's wrong?"

"I hate the way she was pushing this supposed 'destiny' onto you," he says without hesitation. I don't blame him on that one.

"I agree. I see myself as the Thieves Guild master, not a dragonslayer nor the Dragonborn's trusted sidekick," my chest becomes heavy, almost as if my heart's weighing me down. "She is helping us get back into Windhelm. In return I eventually need to help her, even if her attitude is..."

"Pathetic? Selfish? Arrogant?" Brynjolf suggests, until he stops himself from shouting in my face. He sighs to cool himself down. "I'm sorry," he murmurs.

"It's fine," I assure him. To be honest, I'm glad we were talking about this instead than another similar but worse topic. "I'm surprised you aren't questioning me about being..." I hope he understands my reference.

"I don't care if you have the soul of a mammoth. You're a damn good thief and you know how to get business done. You aren't even cocky about it like Solara is with her work. That's what matters most."

A rush of relief runs through my veins, "I knew you'd understand just as well as Karliah."

"Did Karliah already know?"

That's not a question I want to respond to, but it's necessary for me to give him an answer. "Yes, she knew."

"Why did you keep it a secret from everyone except her?" Crap. Him being as good a friend to me as Karliah, I'm now fearing that I offended him. He continues, "Do you just trust her more?"

I shake my head, "I don't trust either of you more than the other. But the reason you didn't know is because you weren't there to witness it."

Brynjolf literally tilts his head, then rises up from his chair. He walks into the hallway, and I hear the false cabinet door being shut and locked. He the returns to the room, and sits back down. My heart's beat was practically leaving bruises on my chest.

"Witness what, lass?" He wants me to tell him, and he knows he can get an answer out of me. He knew I didn't want anybody else to hear into our conversation. Only he could read me so well.

"The accident."


	12. 2-3: Temporary Vodrem

III

"I'm sorry, I must not be hearing you right," Ulfric chuckles. "I thought you just asked me to care less about the Thieves Guild plaguing my city."

"You aren't hard of hearing," I remind him, "You heard right."

Ulfric sat up from his throne, and stared at me as if I ate moonsugar that morning. "Why would you ever want me to do that?"

I gesture him towards his meeting room, where we used to plan out battle tactics during the rebellion. "This is a matter that needs to be spoken in private," I whisper. He nods, and holds a hand up to the guards to ensure that they don't need to follow him.

We stand around the long, rectangular table that was in the center of the room. "My sister," I pause, thinking of the best way to break the news. "She's the Thieves Guildmaster," I pause again, to see if Ulfric would let me continue, "and she says the only way she'll help me defeat Alduin is if I convince you to do this."

"But Solara," his tone of voice was almost unbearably weak, as if he were just betrayed by his own, "You don't really need her assistance in defeating Alduin, now do you?"

"I might, I'm not sure," I try to sound as convincing as I can, even though I could tell it wasn't working. "If we're both Dragonborn, then maybe one of us alone cannot defeat Alduin."

"Are you for certain she's Dragonborn?" Ulfric, like I guessed, was unconvinced.

"She claims to be, but she's given me no proof," I give him my word of truth, because I don't know for sure if she really is Dragonborn. She is a thief after all, and I've not once heard of a thief that tells the truth.

"If she can prove herself as Dovahkiin, then I will turn my head away from any business the Thieves Guild does in my city," Ulfric begins to walk back into the main hall. "Until then, she and the Thieves Guild are both forbidden to do any sort of business in this city."

"Ulfric," I try not to whine to the future High King. "What made you give into this ridiculous bribe of hers? To give my information away in return for her banishment..." I make sure I have a touch of disappointment in my tone.

"I'm not sure..." Ulfric exhales. "There was something about her that just... made me give into her will. It was probably a powerful enchantment to her armor or jewelry." We both stare at each other, neither of us having anything to say.

"I trust that you will come back with reliable feedback to confirm whether she truly is or is not who she claims to be, am I correct?"

I nod, "Yes, sir. You will have my word on whether she was speaking the truth or not."

With that said, I make my departure, and head to my home, Hjerm.

* * *

"Ma, you're home!" Alesan and Blaise both stampede down the stairs. "Did you bring gifts?" Of course, the expected.

"I'm sorry, lads," I sigh, "I didn't get the chance to stop anywhere interesting." Both boys whine, and Serana appears from the enchanting room.

"Your trip was cut short?" She asks. I smile, "No, but I had to make a stop in Windhelm, so I thought I'd drop by."

Serana gave a light smile, "I'm glad you did." She starts walking towards the kitchen. "Want me to prepare you a meal?"

"No thanks," I help myself to an apple on the table. "I'm going to need some potions, though."

Serana stares at me blankly, "You ran out already?"

I shake my head, "I'm going to need more than I expected."

"What for?"

"My trip is going to be much longer than I originally planned it to be."

Serana stays silent. I walk towards the alchemy lab that connected to the boys' room, and start packing a bag with healing and stamina potions.

The door to the room creaks, and I turn to find Serana standing there. "You want me to stay with the kids, I'd assume," her voice has the melodic tone of disappointed. "They shouldn't have to deal without their mothers for a long while, now should they?"

"I've gotten myself into a situation," I inform her, "I have to convince Ulfric that she is Dragonborn. If I can do that, Ulfric promised to allow the Thieves Guild to work in Windhelm again. Once I do all that, my sister would agree to helping me."

Serana seems utterly upset, "Why would you let yourself get into the middle of such a deal with the two most manipulative speakers in all of Tamriel?"

"I've got to do what I must," I mumble.

"I told you to come to me if she wouldn't agree to help you," Serana barks.

"She did agree to help me," I insist, "but with some conditions."

"If she really wants to help you, then she would agree to unconditionally," Serana was yelling at this point, and it got the boys' attention.

"What's all the yelling about?" Blaise asks as he comes from his room into the doorway of the alchemy and enchantment room (which used to be a false cabinet, but we thought it was tacky).

I turn to him, "Go play outside with your brother." He sighs, "Yes, ma."

After he makes his leave, I begin to make mine. I snatch the bag of potions off the table, and storm out of the room.

"Solara!" Serana shouts at me, "Don't leave!" She doesn't chase me, but her voice tries to pull be back to her.

Without a response, I force myself to leave the house. I want to leave this city without making a scene, and without the boys noticing. Thus, I make the dreadful choice of jogging in my heavy armor, just to get to Windhelm stables quicker.

This was going to be one long ride back to Riften.


	13. 2-4: Ov

**_A/N: _**_If for whatever reason you __**have not done the Thieves Guild quesline,**__ I do not suggest reading this chapter because __**there will be spoilers to the questline. **__However, __**I will write a spoiler-free summary of this chapter in the beginning of the next chapter I publish, which should be chapter 5. **I doubt that will be the case, but this chapter is semi-important so I don't want anyone to skip over this one.__ I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you for reading!_

* * *

**_IV_**

Snow Veil Sanctum, sometime in the evening, and by the gods who cares what day it was. I was travelling there with the former Guildmaster, Mercer Frey. We heard of the whereabouts of a former guild member that betrayed the Guild by murdering the Guildmaster before Mercer, and we were going to kill her. We were going to serve justice.

Well, that didn't end very well. Instead the killing the betrayer, I got betrayed myself. When we stepped into the room where she was supposed to be, I could hear the sound of an archer drawing her bow. Before I realized it, there was a paralysis poison-tipped arrow in my leg. Instead of helping me up, Mercer Frey stabbed me in the stomach. Convinced I was going to die, he spoke to the girl we were hunting after about what really happened. He accused her of killing Gallus, when really he was the one who did it. I could barley recall what happened after that because I blacked out from the loss of blood, and I was on my way to Oblivion. That was, until she saved me.

"Don't try to move so quickly," she said to me in a concerned tone. That's when I saw her, the archer who shot me. The girl who didn't betray the Guild, but was betrayed by us.

I decided it'd be best to listen to her, so we discussed our next course of action towards the issue, which would be to find this Bosmer mage in Winterhold. That was, until our discussion was interrupted. We heard the wings of an over-sized reptile hover above us.

With both of us drawing our bows, we shot as many arrows as we could to kill the dragon. The dragon had orange scales, and bright green eyes. I've never seen a dragon look like this before that day.

"Shoot for the head and neck!" I shouted. "That's it's weak spot!" I knew this because of reading a story back in the Imperial City. It was about a warrior who was fighting a dragon, and his teacher told him to shoot for the head and neck.

We were able to shoot many arrows into the dragon before forcing it to land. About a dozen arrows later, the dragon gave up, and Arkay took his life.

Karliah stared at me, "I've never killed anything so... beastly."

"Well, we did it," I assured her. She was calm, until she noticed a ray of light circling my body. "What kind of magic...?" She tried to ask me, but I was unable to respond.

She then realized, like I did at one time, that the light was coming from the dragon. As it's scales and flesh peeled away, it burned into a light, which would ribbon around me as I absorbed it's energy. Some day this energy was the dragon's very soul.

Finally the light died down, and all that was left was the skeleton of the dragon.

"It's like the Nordic tales," she gasped, staring at me in awe. I remembered how hot my face was that moment, how fearful I was. I didn't know Karliah at the time, so having her witness what I kept a secret was beyond my worst fears. Especially with her not being a Nord, I figured that she would have no idea what just happened to me, and that she'd see me as some kind of Deadra.

"You will speak of this to no one," I demanded her. "If I learn about somebody else finding out about this, you're not going to have an easy life."

"You don't need to bathe me in threats," Karliah whispered. "Your secret is safe with me."

Fortunately, Karliah always kept this secret. Whenever there was a dragon nearby, she would find a cave for us to hide in until the dragon became someone else's problem.

Being as kind as she was, Karliah shared her biggest secret with Brynjolf and I: her title of Nightingale. That was all fine and dandy, until Brynjolf and I were half forced to join the Trinity of Nocturnal. I'm not all crazy for Deadra, Aedra, or even the Divines, but I got a lovely set of armor that's light, stylish, and even enchanted with some nice perks. So I guess I can say that I don't regret becoming a Nightingale.

* * *

I don't know if Brynjolf had any secrets, but now he knew mine and Karliah's. I was basically having a panic attack, and I rambled onto him about being this way, and how this wasn't made to be my fate. I'm no warrior. I'm no dragon-slayer. I'm nobody, just a skilled thief. This was the destiny of my sister, and I'm being forced into it because I had to share the same womb as her.

I felt tears running over my face paint, and two strong arms wrapped around me. Brynjolf was hugging me, and I didn't even realize until I stopped hyperventilating and cleared away these torturous thoughts. "I don't know what to think," I try not so sound like a girl who just dropped her sweetroll.

"Think this," he begins in a soft tone, "if she hadn't been in the womb with you, you may have had no choice but to do it by yourself."

"Or she could have been born to save the world by herself," I suggest. Brynjolf only held me tighter.

"Lass," Brynjolf pauses. He lets go of me, then pulls up his chair right next to mine. He holds my forearms, and inhales. "This world wasn't made for you to cease to exist," he tries to look convincing, but I'm not buying it. It's hard for me to give into soft words that I want to hear.

He still continues. "You're a clever, skillful lass. If there are any gods, they wouldn't have thrown you together last second like they would with every other mortal. No, you're a magnificent being. It would have taken them eras to figure out how your life would fall into place."

I wasn't sure if that made me feel better or worse. I wipe my tears, and black paint smudges onto my fingers. I bet it looked even more ridiculous on my face, but Brynjolf doesn't comment. "You're going to be okay, lass. You'll be able to do this. I don't have faith in the gods, or anything much, really. But I have damn good faith in you."

Without a word, I lower my head. "Thank you," I mumble.

Brynjolf then takes my chin with three of his fingers, and lifts my face up so our eyes align. "Now, let's get this meeting ready."

* * *

After cleaning my face with a water basin, I enter the Cistern to begin the meeting. Everyone is standing on the stone platform in the center of the Cistern, where I once stood when I first joined the Guild nearly two years ago. I thank everyone for coming, and begin to address business.

I first look to Delvin and Vex, "In regards for you two, only give number, shill, and bedlam jobs to the most amateur recruits. We don't want one of them being followed into the Ratway by random witnesses, so it's best to give them the simplest jobs we've got."

They both nod, and I add, "make sure to give fishing jobs to the best pickpockets, and burglary and heist jobs to the best lockpicks."

"What about sweep jobs?" Vex questions. "Give them to those who've got the ropes, but aren't ready for the fishing, burglary, and heist jobs yet."

"Understood," she says. I then turn to Delvin.

"Understood," he reiterates.

"Good," I turn to look at our two newest recruits.

Bassianus, a man who moved here with his wife from Ivarstead. Bassianus's wife doesn't know he does this for a living. In fact, she believes he is an assistant at the Black-Briar meadery. I convinced Maven to help us cover the story up, in return for us to keep quiet over the connection to the Dark Brotherhood.

There was also Edda, a beggar who followed Ravyn into the Ratway, until we found her to be useful to us. She takes as many jobs there are available, makes good coin, and is looking to purchase a home in the city. I give her credit: she goes from a beggar to a woman with decent income.

"You each know which skills are your strongest ones. I expect you to take the jobs that will let you use those skills the most. But when you are not doing any jobs, practice your weaker skills here. There are plenty of chests in the practice room to pick, and we're working on a way for you guys to practice pickpocketing." It was enough chaos having recruits practice their pickpocketing on people in the marketplace, so we're going to have to find other methods of practice.

"Moana!" A voice from behind is audible, along with swift footsteps. I turn to find Karliah jogging towards me. "She's back, I was down by the Ratway entrance and I heard guards talking about her arrival. She'll be here any second wondering where you are!"

I pause for a moment, trying not to let a curse slip through my mouth, "meeting dismissed. Stay in the shadows." Brynjolf and I follow Karliah to the Ragged Flagon, and we situate ourselves into somewhat casual positions.


	14. 2-5: Wundaak Begins

_**A/N: **Hey guys! The summer is coming to a close for me, so I may not be posting as much. I have band camp for a few weeks, and then school starts. But once I get enough time, I'm going to start on the next fanfiction I write. It will be another Elder Scrolls story, but it might be a crossover. I'm going to do some research and see what I can do. As for now, here's the possibly useless summary of chapter 4 and chapter 5. Nothing too crazy happens right now in the plot for now, but I hope you guys still enjoy!_

* * *

**_Spoiler-free summary of chapter 4: _**_Moana has a flashback to the first time someone learned about her secret (that she's Dragonborn). The person who learned her secret was none other than her new and untrusted acquaintance, Karliah. After killing a dragon together, Moana made Karliah swear to secrecy. Eventually Karliah reveals a secret about herself to Moana and Brynjolf, and that's when Moana learns that she can trust Karliah._

_After explaining this experience to Brynjolf, Moana has a minor panic attack with Brynjolf in her presence. She's convinced that the fate of being Dragonborn was not supposed to be shared, but was destined only for her sister to fulfill. Brynjolf tells her that she could still fulfill this destiny because she is a valuable individual to the world._

_Moana calms down, and proceeds with the meeting for the Guild over matters on recruitment and training. Karliah interrupts the meeting to announce that Solara has returned to Riften. The meeting is dismissed, and then this chapter proceeds._

* * *

**_V_**

I enter the Ragged Flagon, where the smell of bread and meat nearly blocks out maybe half of the strength of sewage-scent. I find the Guildmaster sitting on a bench with a Bosmer in cream colored robes, who appeared to be reapplying the Guildmaster's face make-up. Other than that, all I can see are the death glares on the thieves' faces. I know they have a policy against killing people, but I'm pretty sure that they'd make an exception to kill me if they really wanted to.

"I see you've returned," Brynjolf says to me in a calm voice. Ignoring him, I walk onto the platform where the Guildmaster and the Bosmer were.

"We need to talk," I say in a calm voice. The Bosmer puts down her brush with black paint, and is handed a coin purse. "Thank you, Galathil," the Guildmaster nods, and then faces me. "Talk about what?"

"You need to come with me," I inform her.

"I have a business to run," she sounds impatient. "Is my organization able to continue working in Windhelm?"

"Not unless you come with me," I say shortly.

There was a pause. She was about to argue, but she forces herself against it. "Fine," she cooperates. She calls over Brynjolf and a Dumner woman in the same uniform and Brynjolf and herself.

"Which one of you would like to come with us?" she asks.

"No!" I snap, "No one else is coming with us!"

"I don't trust you," she turns to me with a straight face. "Allow me to ask for their accompaniment."

"I'm not letting you bring any people I don't know with us," I inform her. "You have no reason to invite these people."

"I do," she insists. "I don't know if you're going to send me to a prison or slaughter me, so I'm not going with you without having companionship with someone I trust."

I roll my eyes, "Fine." I know I couldn't win an argument with a golden tongue. I'd have to sleep with a dagger tonight.

"I'll go with you," the Dumner answers in a velvety voice. "Brynjolf, you can watch the Guild, right?"

"That's all I've been doing, since the Guildmaster's been so busy," he smirks at the Guildmaster.

"I'm sorry," she chuckles. "I'll find a way to make it up to you."

With that said, the three of us headed out. And the best part was that I didn't know the names of either of my followers. But it's okay, they didn't know we were going to Ivarstead, and walking up the seven thousand steps to High Hrothgar.

* * *

After we left the city, the two thieves stood only a couple feet behind me. I soon realize how terrible the idea is of having two thieves walk behind me. Then I realize something even worse; they're both archers. The last thing I need is an arrow to the back.

I stop, and so do the thieves. "Why have you stopped?" The Guildmaster asks. I turn around, "You two walk ahead of me, and if we need to make a detour I'll let you guys know."

They had suspicion for my plans, but they complied without a word. They walk past me, and once they're about ten feet ahead of me, I follow.

* * *

About two hours later, around noon, the silence is finally broken. The Dumner turns around to look at me, "Where are you taking us?"

"If you're willing to exchange information for information, you'll know." Still walking, the two thieves whisper amongst themselves. The Guildmaster then speaks, "What would you like to know?"

"Two things," I begin, until I'm cut off. "No, you will only learn one thing from us if you're only going to tell us where we're going."

"Not unless I tell you why we're going there," I insist.

The Guildmaster sighs, "Fine. What's on your mind?"

"First, your names," I start with the small bit of information I needed.

They turn to look at each other, nod, then speak. "Karliah," says the Dumner.

I nod, then turn to the Guildmaster. "Moana," she mumbles, "We already know your name, Solara."

"So I see," I answer. Moana. I have a twin sister whose name is Moana. That sounds almost like a dragon shout. I'll have to look into it.

"We're going to Ivarstead," I inform them. Then I ask the big question.

"Is it true the Nightingales are amongst the Thieves Guild?"


	15. 2-6: The Gonah

**_A/N: _**_Well I got a few days off from camp, so I'll try to catch up from my lack of time to use a computer__. I'm also sad to say that I've been in a writer's block, and trying to add more to the story is becoming more time consuming (I write about 5-10 chapters ahead before I publish, and I discovered that dungeon scenes are not my forte). I'm also working on some other stories, but I don't know if I should eventually publish them or not. Either way, my main focus for now is this story. Please enjoy this chapter and a favorite would be nice c: And sorry this chapter is so short!_

**_VI_**

We stop walking on a trail near the edge of the Rift, and Solara keeps walking at a slower pace until she catches up to us. I didn't know how to answer, so I turn to Karliah. She's the reverent Nightingale, not me.

"What kind of warrior believes in fairy tales?" Damn. Of all people, Karliah was the last person I'd ever expect to say something like that. I like that.

"It's not a fairy tale, but rumors," Solara insists.

"And you're foolish enough to believe those attention seeking lowlifes who spread rumors?" Karliah snaps at her.

"Rumors are what got me exploring Skyrim, and I learned many new things about the history of this nation and it's people. I learned how to banish dark forces to Oblivion. I learned to defend myself and to protect those who need it," Solara states, sounding as arrogant as a Thalmor leader.

"So you're revered for believing everything that people tell you?" Karliah asks. Solara grips the warhammer that was on her back, "You weren't invited here. Either leave, have a bit of decency, or be gutted."

Karliah narrowed her eyes. I step between the two of them, and stop the argument, "Nobody is getting gutted, and nobody is leaving. We gave you our information: there aren't any Nightingales among our Guild because they are myths," I turn to Solara. "Now you're telling us why we're going to Ivarstead."

"Very well," she confirms, "but let us walk and talk, we need to get there as soon as possible."

"Why?" Karliah asks as we begin walking.

"These people," Solara begins, "they've been waiting for Moana and I for a long time. They summoned us when the dragons started to return, which was about two years ago. I never journeyed to them, because I wasn't sure if it'd be appropriate to go without you," Solara looks at me, changing her answer to Karliah into an awkward explanation for me. Which I didn't need.

"You answered half of the question," I remind Solara, "Who are these people, and why are they summoning us ?"

"The Greybeards of High Hrothgar," Solara mutters. "They are supposedly the people who would know why the dragons are returning. They're masters of the voice, or the power that we obtain as Dragonborn. "

I know well about the voice, or at least what it was. I've never actually used it. I find magic, other than weapon and armor enchantments, to be quite pointless. I've tried to learn some spells once, and let me just make it obvious that it didn't go very well. I almost burnt the Bee and Barb to the ground.

"So we're going to see some monks that are going to tell us about the history of dragons and their magic?" I ask, knowing it would annoy her, and amuse Karliah. Solara turns to me with narrow eyes, and Karliah smirks.

* * *

A few hours later, we make it to Ivarstead from the south road. The town had no more than five buildings and a sawmill. Two, maybe three families live here? We walk through the town, and Solara stops to talk to a man by a bridge with a knapsack.

"Excuse me," she asks, "Which way would lead us to High Hrothgar?" The man turns, and points down the bridge, then up towards the top of the mountain, which I must say looked three times as tall as the White Gold Tower.

"You look like strong women," the man suggests. "I've got supplies to deliver to the Greybeards, but my legs are hurting from all the walking I've done there. Is there any way you would leave this bag in the offering chest at the entrance of the fortress?"

Before I could deny the lazy man's request, Solara agrees to take the bag. "We'll be more than happy to help," she smiles. Gods, Karliah was right. She is a goody two boots.


	16. 2-7: We Are Ragnavir

_**A/N: **Thanks for reading!_

* * *

_**VII**_

The conditions of this mountain are absolutely horrendous. Why a group of monks would decide to live at the top of this rock was something I'll never understand. Solara wasn't bothered by the cold because she's made her current residence in Windhelm, and the only city colder than it would be Winterhold. She's also wearing heavy armor, which probably contains a majority of her body heat. Karliah has been in Skyrim serving Nocturnal and the Thieves Guild for decades, maybe even centuries (considering the fact that she's an elf). Even without frost resistant blood, she's probably tolerating the cold. I've only been in Skyrim for about two years. I've only been to the colder part of Skyrim when I'd have to do necessary mission. I'd spend the rest of my time near the border of Cyrodiil, where it was warm like home.

Karliah and Solara were walking up the steps with ease, while I slipped on almost every set of ten or twenty steps. I feel as if my blood had frozen in my limbs, and my skin was turning into ice. I can't take this anymore. I open the knapsack offering that Solara had asked me to carry, in desperate need for a potion.

Luckily I opened it silently enough so that Solara couldn't hear me. I rummaged through dried food and ingredients, until I found a blue and grey bottle. I can't decipher if it's a magicka potion or not, so I close the knapsack, and stumble towards Karliah. She notices me struggling. She stops, grabbing my arms.

"What's wrong?" she asks me. I show her the potion, "What potion is this?"

Solara overhears us, "What's going on over there?" Karliah shoots her a look, "she doesn't look steady."

Karliah turns back to me, and takes the potion. "This is a potion of resist frost," she informs me. Immediately, I remove the cork that sealed the bottle, and guzzle down the bitter potion.

"Was that in the bag for the Greybeards?!" Solara turns to us, and approaches us as if she were approaching someone that killed her entire family.

"The man told me there was a potion of resist frost in there," Solara still sounds enraged, "don't tell me you just drank that!"

"I'm sorry," Karliah stops holding me, and I'm able to stand on my own. "If this weather is enough to slow her down, she has no reason to not have herself a potion." The potion was indeed helpful. Within seconds of drinking it, I feel my body heat up, like I just got out of my warm bed that stood beside a torch basin.

"That potion isn't ours," Solara insists, "Besides, you're a Nord! You should be able to withstand frost!"

"Yeah, only some frost, not all of it," I remind her, "I haven't lived here my whole life, so I'm not used to weather conditions being colder than the city of Bruma!"

"You've been here for two years, have you not?" Solara turns away, and advances to the next set of steps. I would've been surprised that she knew how long I've been in Skyrim, but then I remember how most people have noticed the Guild's great presence in the past two years.

Karliah and I follow her down the path to the next set of steps. "I have," I ensure her, "I've stayed near the border of Cyrodiil most of the time."

Solara stays silent, and I feel like she doesn't want to answer. That I don't mind, considering most of the statements she makes just proves to me that her ignorance is stronger than I expected.

* * *

We find another pillar, which we've been finding all the way up this path to High Hrothgar. This had to be the tenth one. Solara would have us stop while she read it. While we thought she was reading the pillar, the sound of roaring winds is audible.

"Did you stay near the border so you could stay near father?" Solara asks in a monotone voice.

"No," I sigh, "I just like the warmth of southern Skyrim."

"I see," Solara sighs as well. "How is he?"

I don't think about my answer, "Dead."

I notice Karliah beginning to walk away from the scene, to avoid the awkwardness of this conversation. I nod at her in approval, and she stands about twenty feet away up the path.

"How?" Solara asks.

"Disease," I say, hearing my voice breaking, "It was some kind of fever. The mage that visited our home couldn't decipher what exactly it was. I visited Bruma to hunt for meat that I could sell, and use the gold to buy him a potion that would cure his rare illness."

There was another point of silence, and Solara asks, "Is that where the Imperials..."

"Yeah," I nod, but she can't see her reaction because her back was facing me.

"What happened to mother?"

"She's..." Solara's voice cracks, and I hear sniffling. After a moment, she answers. "Kidnapped by the Thalmor."

"Would she still be alive?" I question her, which was probably a stupid thing to ask.

"No," Solara answers. "They delivered to me a ring she always wore months after her disappearance."

"That isn't proof that she's dead," I suggest.

"She originally wore the ring in her teen years," she mutters. "It eventually became too small, and was permanently attached to her finger."

I want to suggest that they may have cut off her hand and took the ring from her that way, but I figure Solara would be too stubborn to believe that she might be alive. I doubt the Thalmor kidnapped her. Solara being a Stormcloak, she probably has great hatred towards them, therefore blaming them for everything she could.

"How do you know father is dead?" she asks.

"I received a letter of inheritance, and an invitation to his funeral," I answer shortly.

"Did you attend his funeral?"

"I did," I inform her. "But I couldn't stay in Cyrodiil for long because I had business back in Skyrim." I hope she could take a hint that it was Guild business.

"Was I inherited anything from him?" Solara turns to me, where her identical blue eyes met mine.

* * *

In the letter of inheritance, I received my father's cottage, along with an amulet and a note that I was ordered to "give to your sister when you finally meet her." I recall almost a year ago having to plant a flawless amethyst in a house in Windhelm for a shill job. I was aware that my sister lived in that city. Fortunately I had some associates who knew where she lived, and I thought I'd pay a visit, without making our first meeting an awkward one.

I left the note and the amulet upstairs on the bedside table, next to where she slept that night. Then, a young voice asked me who I was.

I turned around to find a boy with black hair around the age of eleven staring at me. I was wearing my full set Nightingale armor, so the child couldn't see my face. "I'm an aedra, and I had to speak to your mother," I lied.

"My mothers are both strong and can take you down in a heartbeat!" The child was shouting.

"Go back to sleep, you pest," I immediately heard footsteps and a soft voice from upstairs questioning the disturbance of silence. That was my time to make a run for it. I left Windhelm without being seen by anyone else that night.

* * *

"Well, did I?" Solara repeats in a demanding tone.

"I don't know," I lie, "they never mentioned you."

Solara let out a disappointed sigh, "Okay." She begins walking towards Karliah, and I follow her.

I always wondered what the letter my father gave her said. Apparently it didn't mention me, or my orders to give her the letter and amulet. I guess the letter's content was something I'm never supposed to find out.

"I'm glad we had this conversation," I mumble soft enough so Karliah couldn't hear me.

Solara looks at me with the same broken eyes I once had.

"So am I."


	17. 2-8: First Mindaat

**_A/N:_**_ Hey guys! It's been a while, so I felt I owe you guys a new chapter. Thanks for the patience. Enjoy!_

* * *

**_VIII_**

We arrive to High Hrothgar, where the voices of these men have summoned Moana and I, nearly two years ago. If they weren't monks, I'd expect a rude welcoming party.

We open the large offering chest covered in frost, and place the bag of supplies inside. I begin to walk up the steps to one of the entrances, but I hear the shuffling of stone and metal. I turn to see Moana and Karliah examining offerings people left, such as potions and daggers.

"Do we really have time for that?" I ask them. I wanted to ask if they really had the morality to commit such blasphemy, but I would be wasting my breath. They place a miniscule healing potion and a container of nightshade in their pockets, and we enter the fortress.

We enter the stone fortress. The energy created by the Greybeards could almost be felt upon just from inhaling the air in this place. The air is still. The light that beams through the window shines gold, while the rest of the interior of this building was grey and cold.

"So, a Dragonborn appears at this moment in a turning of the age." begins an old, crippled voice. The three of us turn to find an old man in grey robes and a grey hood, with a long, knotted grey beard, standing beside a small stair case.

"I am Arngir, the speaker of the Greybeards," the man introduces. "Which one of you three is Dragonborn?"

Moana and I look at each other, and we both step forward. Arngir chuckles gently, "the one who I am asking for is to step forward, not the other two." He walks over to Karliah, assuming she's Dragonborn.

"I'm not the one you want," Karliah informs him. "They are," she points to us.

Arngir stares at us in awe. "There's... two?" Moana nods.

"How... how is this possible?"

"You see," Moana begins in the most sarcastic tone anyone could ever have. "There's this thing that happens when a woman is pregnant with two babies at the same time. These two babies are called twins," I shoot her a dirty look, but she smirks.

"You mean... you both have the gift of the Voice?" Arngir acts as if he's never heard of such an occurrence.

"Is it rare to have this happen?" I ask.

"I didn't know it was even possible," he shakes his head. "This has never happened before."

"Well, you've got two Dragonborns to deal with rather than one," Karliah says. She says it as if she's dropping off her kids to a childcarer's house. Which reminds me...

"Shouldn't you be leaving?" I turn to her. Karliah raises an eyebrow, and Moana turns to me in her defense.

"She doesn't have to leave until I tell her to," Moana hisses at me.

"You said she was to escort you here because you didn't trust me," I remind her. "Now we're here. She can leave."

"The blonde one is right," Arngir agrees with me, even though he knows nothing of the topic.

"Stay out of this," Moana snaps at him.

"Well you must know, we're going to put you and your sister through some dangerous tests," Arngir says, "If your friend were to stay here, she could get hurt, or possibly killed."

Annoyed, Moana turns to Karliah, and whispers something into her ear. Karliah nods, and makes her leave. "Sorry for the disturbance," she says Arngir.

"May you have a safe journey home," Arngir says. Once Karliah closes the titanic door behind her, Arngir turns to us.

"Prove to us you're Dragonborn, and let us taste your voice," he walks to the center of the large room, and three men identical to him appear from the shadows.

"You want us to use our powers you?" Moana questions.

"One at a time, yes." Arngir answers.

Without hesitation, I fill my lungs with air like a drunk fills his stomach with mead. I exhale, and the word "fus" leaves my lips. The four men stagger backwards.

"Impressive," Arngeir says in an admirable tone. He turns to Moana.

"Now you."


End file.
